Tag: Caregiver

Shit changes fast around here, and as soon as I’m used to the current state of things, it changes again. I’m still in survival mode. I say still because I think I shifted into it somewhere around my sixth month of pregnancy, maybe somewhere around my second round of strep throat? The “baby” is now …

Yesterday would have been my grandmother’s 89th birthday. We would have celebrated with her favorite dinner (shrimp Alfredo, which she liked the best when my father was the one making it). There would have been cake, or maybe milkshakes, depending on her mood. There would have been laughter, and some grumblings about how she couldn’t …

I’m sitting in the driver’s seat. My two year old is in the back in her car seat, losing her ever loving mind because her shoe came off. Actually, her shoe didn’t come off, she took it off. Then she threw it onto the floor. Now she’s filled with the burning rage of a …

There is a reason why people clean when they grieve. I think part of it is a need to be doing something mundane and normal. Part of it also has to do with wanting to be in control of something, anything, when everything else seems so profoundly out of your control. These thoughts are knocking …

The boxes are (mostly) unpacked, the pictures are hung, and my husband’s dirty clothes are discarded all over the floor. We are home. It has not been an easy past two weeks. I never actually questioned our marriage during this whole process, but I did vaguely wonder at a few points if someday I would …

I was pulling up to my parent’s street when I saw it. It was a sign. No literally, it was a sign. It said, “Moving Sale, this Saturday” and it was hanging right in front of their street. I fought the urge to burst into tears. I fought it valiantly but, whatever. I wiped one …

It’s getting real. The boxes are getting packed. There are empty nails sticking out the wall, slightly darker paint showing where picture frames once hung. The home turning back into what it was when I first walked into it eleven years ago, just a house. So much has happened in the past eleven years. I …

Alright, the title is kind of misleading. First, we are not yet landlords. We are still in the god awful showing of the property and screening out lunatics phase. We haven’t even gotten to the part where money exchanges hands. We’re just basically unpaid tour guides in the museum of our lives. And. It. Is. …